


Escapades

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [331]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: F/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 18:18:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8171227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: prelude requested: moar pen and ink: “What do you mean there’s no signal? We’re trapped here?!”





	

Penny flicked from comms to compact-mode and checked her hair as Gordon continued his mini-meltdown.  “Penny,” he said, leaning in, his hand warm where it curled over her fingers, folding her compact closed.  “Are we trapped?”

She smiled sunnily at him.  “Think of it as holding position.”

Gordon’s voice was pitched low, a vicious hiss designed for her ears only.  “In and out.  You promised.”

“I made no such promise,” she said, matching his stare and holding his gaze.  “I said tactical strike.”

Gordon hunkered down, knees folded up almost to his chin.  “I trusted you,” he said mournfully. “Virgil was right, never listen to older women.  They lead you astray, he said.”

Penny turns her snort into a discreet cough.  “He did, did he?”  Virgil had just turned seventeen that summer, and Penny knew Gordon thought he hung the moon.

Gordon nodded.  Almost fifteen, and still to fully grow out of his huge puppy dog eyes.  Penny wondered if he ever would.  “That’s what he told Scott.”

Mention of the eldest reminded Penny of their predicament.  “John and Alan won’t let us down,” she soothed.  Gordon just humphed to himself and tucked up into an even tighter ball.

Penny left him to his sulk, and took the chance to check the perimeter.  Jeff Tracy’s corporate office was huge, all sleek lines and pale blond wood finishes. Though her education in such matters was incomplete, Penny could already spot several discreetly hidden drawers and compartments.

In her pocket, her comm vibrated once, then twice.  “We have signal,” she announced, and Gordon was bouncing up like a cork, pout already forgotten.  “Don’t forget our trophy.” 

Penny was a Lady, but as Gordon turned and bent from the waist to scoop up their prize, Penny felt a strange flutter in her stomach, a tingle in her toes.

“Got it!”  he announced, waving his father’s nameplate, the designated proof that they had made it in and out without being caught.  The movement made his arms flex, every swimmer’s muscle clearly defined under the thin fabric of his shirt.

Penny turned so Gordon couldn’t see the high colour she could feel burning on her cheeks.  “Come along.  Time to go.”

She was acutely aware of Gordon behind her, so close she could feel the warmth of his body, as they made their escape.


End file.
